PROTECTIVE SISTER IS PROTECTIVE
Rurik peered about the room for those he knew of the pack—there were a lot of faces here! He recognized some, but not all. One of the faces that did draw his attention momentarily was Strel—Rurik almost waved to the red-headed man, and then the look of nervousness and discomfort across the other man's face made him stop and turn his attention elsewhere, contemplating this moment of almost unexpected awkwardness. They hadn't seen one another since the night in Strel's room together, and though Rurik knew damn well what had happened, he hadn't placed a lot of emphasis on it. Maybe Strel had?
Liliya's awkwardness was abated the moment the familiar Russian voice rang out into the air. A friend? She turned to find Anatoliy sitting with... a girl! She trotted over as casually as she could toward the pair, and smiled at her brother, and less friendly at the stranger. “Что вы имеете в виду друг?” she demanded of her brother. Just as quickly she turned toward the darker female, asking in her broken English: “Are you gonna be nice to my brother? You better be,” she said, growing almost froufy with protectiveness. They might have been the same age, but Liliy would not have a tramp or unworthy woman moving in on one of her brothers.
Rurik had followed Liliy, eager to escape the awkwardness of having caught Strel's eye for a moment, and at her words he tapped her on the arm, frowning. “Be nice, Liliya!” he said, as stern as he had been with any of his children in a long time. “Sorry,” he said, turning to Toliy's friend. “She get protective of her brozhers,” the Russian explained apologetically. A light touch against his arm caused him to turn, and he saw Marika standing just behind him, asking a question about dancing. He grinned at her and swung an arm about her shoulders, drawing her into their circle. “When zhe music goes, my dear,” he explained. “Toliy! Liliy! You meet zhis lady yet? She is your niece Marika. Zaets' daughter,” the silver-shaded werewolf explained, grinning broadly at his little family.
Liliya's scowl softened at her father's reprimand, and she looked down at her feet. “Sorry,” she mumbled, though it was not insincere—now she was feeling rather bothered and embarassed by her actions. Toliy could look after himself—the last thing he needed was his sister barking at any women who showed interest in him. Another canine floated to their midst, and the soft tones of music caught the woman's ears. She looked to the stage and back to the other canine, recognizing him as Niro, the one she'd cooked fish for on the coast. She offered him a little smile and drew back, eager to take a minute away from her family. Rurik was making a big deal of Marika, who was somehow her niece, and Liliy simply had no interest. “So many people,” she said softly to the feather-adorned canine, shivering a little. She was still uncertain of her dress; the other women's dresses were so ornate and colorful and pretty. She felt so plain in her short and pale green-gray dress.
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